A Sister's Importance

If anyone had asked Heron who the most important person was in his life, he would have answered without any hesitation that it was his sister. She was a whole year younger than him, but the two of them had always been close.

Her best friend was also very important to him, as he had known him for years. Secretly, he had always hoped that the two would someday end up married. Heron always thought that they were cute together. Part of this was because he knew that the guy would be able to protect Hazel better than he would be able to.

It was something he had always been aware of. The fact that his body was frail and sickly. He had been checked on by doctors ever since he could remember. Asrar being there for his sister always made him feel better about it though.

Despite his physical weakness Heron was not incompetent. He had always been exceptionally bright, which had garnered him much praise from everyone at court. He was sharp-eyed and nimble. Where he lacked physical strength, he made up for in his ability to use his lithe form to the fullest of its abilities.

By all outward appearances Heron was a perfect child. Respectful, well behaved, and cheerful. However, no one knew that he had been picking locks, and sneaking around since he was seven years old. Except his sister and her best friend, because he had taught them how to steal pastries from the kitchens. But even they did not know the extent of it.

He was nine years old when he stole into a place that he definitely was not supposed to be. It was an old tower that had been locked up for years. There was a slot in it though in which the kingdom threw all sorts of unwanted stuff in.

Curious, the nine-year-old prince could not keep himself from picking the lock and sneaking in. The entire place was filled with all sorts of things. It was the books that drew him. There were so many of them.

Heron had always liked to read and so he sat down and began reading by the light of his lantern and what he found horrified him. The first book was a history book, one that had been hidden here in order to keep it from being destroyed.

It was a history of the truth about how Amriel had been made. Magic was in the very stones of the kingdom, keeping it from decay and many dangers and yet as soon as the walls had been built those who had worked so hard to build it were cruelly slain on its ramparts. The blood of the kind hearted mages soaked its stones and made its enchantments stronger.

Heron never knew why he did not doubt this to be the case, but it really did horrify him. He left that building and for the next week hardly slept, as horrifying images came to mind. His sister was concerned about him but he laughed it off.

After a while, Heron could not keep himself from going back and this time he looked at the other books. There were all sorts of books that had been thrown in here for whatever reason – and there were spellbooks as well. They were indestructible; Heron tested them. Which he realized was why they had been thrown in here. Out of sight, out of mind. He began reading them as he was feeling rebellious due to the information that he had read a week ago.

Oh, he did not try to cast anything, merely studied it and got an idea of how magic was used and how it functioned. He found that it was not actually all that scary.

For the next few years Heron would often sneak out at night and read these books by lantern light. Never actually trying to cast anything, but enjoying the sense of doing his own thing. He considered taking his sister to see his findings but decided against it. She was so young and innocent that he did not want to destroy her faith in their kingdom.

It was tough enough on him to know that their kingdom had been built on lies. But his sister was even more innocent than he was. She was young, vibrant, filled with life and was at an age in which the only things she was concerned with was the vibrancy of her youth. He could not bear to put the burden of truth on her and so kept quiet.